Starfleet Hero, Doggy Style
by Tsuev Q
Summary: Porthos gets himself kidnapped! Will Archer come to the rescue still in time? (Translated by Sita Z)LAST CHAPTER IS UP!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Starfleet Hero, Doggy Style

Author: Tsuev

Genre: Action/Humor

Rating: PG

Summary: Porthos gets himself kidnapped! Will Archer come to the rescue still in time?

Disclaimer: Hey, guys, do you see that hat I'm wearing? Do you see it, huh? Do you really think if I owned Star Trek I would wear a hat like this? ....well, maybe I would : ). But that's not the point, the point is that I don't own Enterprise. Paramount does. Rats.

AN: Okay, this is my first Enterprise fanfic and of course the story involves my favorite character, the Almighty Porthos.... Because I'm a stupid German, I couldn't write this story in English and so my sister Sita translated it for me. Well, um... On with the story! Please read & review!

Chapter 1

Sometimes humans can be pretty stupid. Just look at that! He left the tin with the chocolate cookies standing on the counter, and he didn't even remember putting the lid back on! Porthos thought, staring up at the red plastic tin and wondering how he could reach it without breaking anything and - even more important - without anyone noticing. He'd already tried the old Jump and Kick routine, but after several futile attempts he had realized that he was simply too small.

Archer wasn't here. T'Pol had called, reporting they had found a planet and asking Archer to come to the bridge immediately. The Captain had complied, leaving Porthos and the cookies alone in his quarters.

Cheese cookies would be even better, but I doubt humans eat that kind of cookies. Pity, _though._

Porthos looked around for a chair he could use as a ladder. The only chair in the room, however, was the swivel chair in front of the desk.

Well, it'll have to do.

He began to push the chair in the direction of the counter (fortunately its legs had small wheels, and so didn't leave any scratches on Jon's precious deck paneling), and after a while it began to move, centimeter by centimeter.

Please, please don't let Jon come back from the bridge just yet, Porthos uttered in silent prayer when he saw the chair bump into the trash can, which tipped over, causing a loud, unpleasant clatter when it hit the deck. No such luck, however. The door slid open and Jon entered the room. Putting on his best puppy eyes, Porthos sat beside the chair and started to chew on his left paw.

"Porthos, what are you doing? I told you before not to push around the furniture! Sit," he added. Inwardly, Porthos rolled his eyes.

I am sitting.

Pity he couldn't talk to Archer; he'd have told him long ago that he hated being talked to in that numskully way.

"Why do you always knock over the trash can _before_ maintenance comes to empty it!" Archer scolded, picking up the scattered rubbish with a disgusted expression on his face.

So I can watch you clean it up. Why don't you go back to the bridge so I can finally get my cookies. Once I have the tin under your bed you'll have forgotten that you ever had a tin of chocolate cookies, so why don't you just leave the trashcan alone and go back to the bridge?

Porthos went to lie down on his gray pillow at the end of Jon's bed, starting to chew on the toy ball Trip had given him as a present.

"Hey, boy, are you bored? Why don't we go for a walk, I'm not on duty anyway."

Noooo, I don't want to go for a walk. You can go. All I want are those cookies. Oh well, I'll come with you. At least then you're not in your quarters, and I can be sure you don't eat them all yourself.

Together, they stepped into the corridor.

"Come on, let's go to messhall, get some dinner."

Porthos fell into pace beside his master. Mostly, he enjoyed going for a walk through the ship. He liked seeing different faces, and always hoped to meet Phlox who always smelled of strange, interesting animals. Most important, their walks always ended in messhall where Porthos got his usual piece of cheese.

XXX

Dodging the legs of tables and people, Porthos arrived at Jon's favorite table. Mostly Archer ate in his own private mess, but when he decided to have dinner in messhall he always sat at the same table right in front of one of the windows. Porthos spotted Trip and his meatloaf, made a beeline for the engineer's table and blinked up at him with big brown puppy eyes. Then he returned to Archer's table, chewing contentedly on a sizable piece of juicy meatloaf. The Captain had gotten himself a sandwich, and was now reading something on one of those gray padds with the small blue screens. Porthos still had no idea what these things were supposed to be, or what made them so fascinating. He was bored. He'd already had his own dinner and wasn't hungry anymore, but except from eating there wasn't much you could do in this place.

He saw Reed sitting at one of the tables.

I could pretend trying to bite him. That'd be fun. But I'm sure Jon would be angry with me. After I had returned from sickbay, of course. No, better go tease someone less dangerous!

Hoshi was there as well. She was sitting a few tables away, engaged in lively conversation with Liz Cutler. Porthos sneaked a glance at Jon, but he seemed completely absorbed in his reading. Stealthily, Porthos made his way to Hoshi's table.

"Hi there, Porthos!" Hoshi called when she saw him. "What are you doing here? Oh, the Captain is here as well!" She lifted him onto her lap. Porthos was rather fond of Hoshi; unlike everyone else, she mostly talked to him in a pretty normal tone, and sometimes even shared her food with him. Today, however, she was having some kind of disgusting salad with red crumbs on top; Porthos had no intention of sharing that kind of meal, and Hoshi didn't seem inclined to give him any, either. Cutler, on the other hand, was having meat; he could smell it. Giving her his best puppy eyes, he whined, but she only laughed and continued her meal.

Stupid human! he thought, and kept staring at her. When it didn't have the desired effect, he jumped off Hoshi's lap and laid his paw on Cutler's knee.

"Porthos! Get back here at once!" That was Jon. Sighing, Porthos turned around. When he saw Jon coming towards him, he quickly pulled his tail between his legs and ducked. Pretending to be afraid sometimes averted an angry lecture, because people tended to assume you were sorry for whatever crime you had committed.

"You're not supposed to beg for food. You know that!" Jon threw him an angry look. Porthos ducked his head and gave Jon the Old Puppy Eyes.

"You can't be still hungry, you already had your dinner. Come one, let's go."

Bored and disappointed, Porthos followed Archer who told him to sit under the table and "better not try begging again."

When they finally returned to Archer's quarters, Porthos remembered the cookies.

No no no he mustn't see them, he thought, and with desperate determination he jumped onto Jon's bed and used his snout to knock over the light on the lamp on the night stand. There was a loud crash, and Jon immediately came out of the head.

"What now! Dammit, Porthos, can't you be a little more careful!"

No. Not when my cookies are in danger.

Swearing, Jon picked up the lamp and put it back onto the small table, switching it on.

"You're damn lucky it's not broken," he snapped, and disappeared back into the head.

Well, you are charming company today! Bad day at work?

Porthos went to lie on his pillow and waited for Archer to come back out of the head. When Jon was back Porthos jumped onto the bed and again tried his best puppy eyes. The Captain seemed to feel sorry for his earlier bad mood, sat down next to his dog and scratched him between the ears. The beagle crawled into Jon's lap and buried his snout in the Captain's arm.

"Tell you what, Porthos. T'Pol, me and the others are going to go down to that planet tomorrow, and I think I'm going to take you along. It's a nice planet, rich in plant life and the like. Some fresh air can't hurt, can it? Even though T'Pol won't be very happy about your company!" He smiled. "But be careful, I don't want you to catch another virus!"

Picking up the dog, he put him down at the foot end of the bed. Porthos curled up and rested his head on his paws, at peace with life and the universe in general. Jon wasn't angry at him anymore, and no one had eaten his cookies. And tomorrow he was finally going to get out of the ship for the first time in quite a while.

Covering his ears with his paws when Jon started to snore, he closed his eyes and was soon asleep.

TBC...

Please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Starfleet Hero, Doggy Style

Author: Tsuev

Genre: Action/Humor

Rating: PG

Summary: Porthos gets himself kidnapped! Will Archer come to the rescue still in time?

AN: Thanks to Sita Z, kelsey, Gabi, Exploded Pen, lieutenants-lady, The Libran Iniquity, MaxMacGyver, Rinne and pookha for reviewing!

Chapter 2

When Porthos woke up, Jon was already gone. He stretched and sat up. Now that Jon was gone he could start another attempt at reaching the cookies.

But they were gone. There was nothing left on the counter except for an empty cup.

Maybe they're standing at the very back of the counter.

Porthos jumped up - too much trouble to push over the desk chair now- and dug his claws into the counter's edge. No cookies.

Great. I was expecting as much.

He lost his grip and landed on the floor with a dull thud. With a short howl of pain Porthos got back up, and hobbled over to his pillow. That moment the door slid open, and Jon came in. Today he was a portrait in frisky cheerfulness which only added to Porthos' bad mood. First that man ate (or put away) his cookies, and now he dared being in a good mood when Porthos was feeling grumpy as hell.

"Good morning, Porthos! Had a good night's sleep?"

Sure. Wonderful, and I especially enjoyed listening to you snoring all night long!

"I'm feeling really great this morning."

Yeah, and next you're gonna say "It's a lovely day outside". Porthos curled up on his pillow and closed his eyes with an annoyed sigh.

"Hey, come on old boy! Rise and shine, we're meeting the others in the shuttle bay in less than five minutes!"

Alright, alright, I'm getting up, but will you please stop shouting like that.

With an effort, Porthos got to his feet and watched Jon fuss about, gathering up a few odds and ends and finally coming to stand in front of Porthos with the air of a man ready to tackle Mount Everest. The beagle fought the immediate urge to disappear back under the covers.

He wondered why they were going down to that planet at all. Archer hadn't told him, he'd been too tired yesterday, and of course there was no way he could ask. Still, he was happy to get out of the ship and followed Jon who pressed the button to open the door, a bounce in his step as he walked down the corridor.

When they had reached the shuttle bay Porthos found himself feeling especially evil. He came to a halt next to T'Pol, smacked his lips in a noisy way and began to sniff her boots. As discreetly as possible she took a step aside.

"All ready?" Jon asked in his "Captain's" voice.

"Yessir!" came Reed's crisp reply.

I wonder why that guy always stands ramrod straight, no matter where he is. Maybe because it makes him look a little taller, Porthos mused.

Their away team consisted of Archer, Trip, T'Pol, Reed, Mayweather and two security ensigns. Porthos noted with disappointment that Hoshi was not joining the landing party. Jon sat down on a chair behind the pilot's seat. After Trip had lifted him into the shuttle, Porthos jumped into the Captain's lap and wagged his tail in eager excitement. When everyone had taken a seat, the shuttle doors opened and Mayweather took the pod outside.

Their trip down to the surface passed quickly, and after only a short time Mayweather landed the pod safely on a clearing in some kind of jungle.

The air outside was hot and damp, and it smelled of trees and rain. Porthos ran to a big tree at the edge of the clearing and began to sniff around in the grass. Suddenly a grasshopper-like insect jumped up right in front of his nose, almost giving him a cardiac arrest. Quickly, Porthos returned Jon and the others who were gathered next to the shuttle. T'Pol checked her scanner, then turned to the Captain.

"No mammals in the near vicinity."

She never talks much, does she? Nine or ten words in one sentence, at the most. Well, maybe she thinks all the more, just like I do. Porthos felt something tickling in his nose and sneezed. _Still, I'd love to be able to talk. She can do it, but she doesn't want to._

Porthos had to smile at his own weird thoughts. Then his eyes fell on Trip who was telling one of the ensigns about one of his vacations in the tropics where the vegetation had looked just the same.

He can't do it, but he loves to, anyway.

They split up into two teams. It seemed like the humans wanted to gather mineral samples to take them back to Enterprise for further examination. Why they wanted to do so, Porthos had no idea. What use were mineral samples from a planet like this, not very big and not very important either? Surely there were thousands of these planets in a radius of no more than 50 light years.

Porthos was supposed to join Archer, Trip and the two security guards. He approved of the company; he wasn't too fond of Mayweather, Reed scared him and T'Pol's oversensitive reaction to his presence could get a little annoying at times. Porthos was sure he didn't smell _that_ bad.

There were a few beaten paths leading into different directions, apparently created by larger animals moving through the underbrush. Porthos followed his group down the path which went slightly downhill.

It was very quiet, except of course for the usual loud stamping of the humans' feet. The only smell was that of rain and rotting leaves. There wasn't a breath of wind in the air. But Jon and Trip didn't seem to have noticed the ominous silence; they were chatting excitedly about their mineral samples, and the two ensigns were trudging down the path behind them, hands resting on their phasers. Suddenly there was a rustling in the underbrush behind them, but when Porthos turned around the noise was already gone. Feeling his apprehension rising, he crept closer to Jon's feet. After they'd followed the path for about ten minutes, it forked up into several smaller passages, and the humans had to duck in order to avoid the branches which were hanging about one and a half meters above the ground. It seemed like the path they were currently following had been created by smaller animals.

How far is it?? This sure seems to take forever. Boy, I'm glad when we're back on Enterprise.

The air got hotter and damper the further they went into the forest, and Porthos started to pant, thinking wistfully of the dry cool air back on the ship.

Finally they saw a small bit of blue sky, and a moment later stepped into a bright and very small clearing surrounded by beechlike trees. Trip began to scan the big boulders which formed a small, gray hill between two of those trees. He showed them to Archer and they immediately launched into a lively discussion whether to take samples or not.

Well, looks like we're going to stay here a while.

One of the ensigns seemed to be thinking along similar lines, sighing and leaning against one of the trees. Porthos examined the dusty ground and sniffed at the grass at the edge of the clearing. Jon climbed around on the boulders, sprained his ankle and decided to let Trip continue the search. The humans continued to take samples and Porthos was beginning to get bored, idly looking between the trees for something that would stir his interest. No one paid attention to him. One of the ensigns had his eyes closed, and the other one watched as Trip slipped on a rock, landed on his behind and uttered a loud curse. Jon didn't take notice of anything around him, seeming utterly absorbed in a dark spot on one of the boulders.

Porthos disappeared behind one of the large bushes. Back here, the ground was completely covered in half-rotten leaves and small pieces of twigs. Slowly making his way through the undergrowth, Porthos kept looking for one of the paths. He climbed over knobby roots and got caught in the dense foliage more than once. Once he stopped to chew on a juicy grass plant since the damp heat had left him rather thirsty. A scent of river hung in the air and Porthos followed the smell. He could almost see the small drops of water that were hanging in the air. After a while, the murmuring of water came into his hearing range. Finally he discovered a path and headed towards the babbling and splashing. He looked around. The clearing was nowhere to be seen.

Doesn't matter. I'll find my way back.

The murmuring became louder. The ground under his feet was muddy and covered with puddles.

Finally he left the forest behind, and found himself standing on the stony riverbank of a large brook. The bank was strewn with big boulders lying on top of each other, and as far as Porthos could see there was not a single patch of sand to be seen. Strange, fishlike creatures were whizzing through the water, from time to time jumping up in the air.

A few rocks were lying in the riverbed, natural obstacles for the water which had to make its way around them. Porthos stepped closer to the water's edge, a small slope of about twenty centimeters. He bent forward to have a drink.

His snout broke through the cool surface. At the same time, however, he slipped on the wet rock, lost his balance and fell headfirst into the river. Automatically his eyes scrunched shut. The strong current was sweeping him away at a rapid speed, and Porthos kicked his legs to get back to the surface. His snout came up and he took a deep breath, but was immediately drawn back under. He felt his flank scrape along a rock, and the sharp edges left painful scratches in his side. Then another strong current pulled him further down. His lungs filled with water, and he knew no more, the river carrying him away.

XXX

Slowly, he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and propped himself up on his front paws, his hind paws still lying limply on the ground. He looked around. He was lying on a sand bank, gray, grainy sand stretching in both directions. Looking over at the opposite side of the river, Porthos noticed that the other bank was much the same. A narrow stripe of sand, no more than seven meters between the river and the dense undergrowth.

Porthos became aware of a painful throbbing behind his forehead. The places where the sharp rock had scratched his skin added to the pain. He felt tired, unable to get up and walk. But he couldn't stay here. Who knew what kind of animal might be lurking behind the next tree.

"No mammals in the near vicinity," T'Pol had said. Well, maybe he wasn't in the near vicinity anymore. He had no idea how far the river had carried him, and he had no idea how long he had lain unconscious. Probably quite a while, since his fur was almost dry again.

In any case, he had to try and find his way back as quickly as possible. He tried to get up, but at first his hind paws wouldn't support him. Finally he managed to get to his feet, but that moment a dizzy spell washed over him. He waited for the feeling to pass, and slowly began to make his way down the sand bank, in opposite direction of the current. It was a slow process; he kept stumbling, and every time he fell he felt like he couldn't get up again.

He stopped for a moment to get his breath back. This wasn't going to get him anywhere. Not at this slow pace. The river might have carried him several kilometers; that was how he felt, at least. He had to find a place to hide, and rest before he continued on.

Not on the bank, though. If I sleep here, any predator coming by will see me a mile off.

So the only place left was the forest. Porthos spotted a big tree at the very edge of the jungle. The bottom of its trunk was hollow, and Porthos pushed aside the loose earth and leaves filling the small opening until he had created a hole big enough for him to fit into. The mixture of dust and sand got into his nose, and he sneezed. Lying down, he covered his body with dry leaves to make sure he was safely hidden, rested his head on his front paws and was instantly asleep.

TBC...

Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Starfleet Hero, Doggy Style

Author: Tsuev

Genre: Action/Humor

Rating: PG

Summary: Porthos gets himself kidnapped! Will Archer come to the rescue still in time?

AN: Thanks to Exploded Pen, Sita Z, Gabi, The Libran Iniquity, T'eyla, kelsey and Rinne for reviewing.

Chapter 3

When Porthos woke up again, he didn't move or bother to open his eyes. Today, it seemed, was one of those days you better stayed in bed. Jon seemed to be already gone; it was very quiet around him. Too quiet. Even the warp engine's distant hum was missing. Porthos opened his eyes, and sat up. Right - he wasn't on Enterprise anymore. But he wasn't in his hiding place at the river, either. He was in a room he had never seen before. A very small room. The walls were a dirty gray, the small chamber crammed with huge, bulky wooden objects which had probably served as furniture some time ago. One of it looked like a table, but its legs were rather short, and it only had three of them to begin with. There was no need for a fourth leg, however, since the table top itself was triangular. The other objects were completely different from human furniture.

Porthos was sitting on a very large pillow, which seemed to have been designed for an oversized St Bernard rather than for a dog of his size. A bowl of similar dimensions was standing next to him. It was filled with water.

The room also had a small window at the very back, grubby-looking and positioned about one meter above the floor. On the other side of the room there was a heavy wooden door whose handle was remarkably close to the floor as well.

Porthos sniffed. It smelled strange in here, no scent he was able to recognize. How had he come to be here? The only thing he remembered was falling asleep under that tree.

The fur on his neck was standing on end. Slowly, he got up and walked over to the door. It was locked. He examined the handle. It was long ago that he had last seen a door handle. It seemed to made of bronze, and looked very solid. He was trapped. The window was too far up for him to try and get out. There was no window sill, and behind it only a patch of bright blue sky. Well, at least he wasn't on a spaceship.

Porthos could have kicked himself for being stupid enough to run away on an alien planet. Jon was probably beside himself with worry, not to speak of the fact that Porthos was locked up in a strange room and had no idea how he had come to be here. Why was it that every away mission he joined only landed him or Jon in a big nasty heap of trouble?

Porthos pricked up his ears. There was a noise, a clicking like dog paws - large heavy dog paws - walking on a concrete floor. The sound grew louder, and Porthos backed away from the door. Whoever these feet belonged to, Porthos had no wish for him or her to come in here. Sure enough, the clicking moved away again, and after a while it was gone. Porthos let out a breath of relief. Again, silence ensued, and he could hear his own heart beating in his chest, his blood throbbing in his ears. Porthos sat back down on his pillow, and listened apprehensively for any noise from outside.

Suddenly, new steps approached. Porthos felt his body tense up. This time, the thing came to a halt in front of the door. Something jangled, then the lock gave an ugly crunching sound and the door was pushed open. Porthos gasped for air. There was a dog standing in the door frame. He was about one and a half meters in height, had shaggy, golden brown fur and a pointed snout. His eyes were of a dark auburn. The most remarkable aspect of his appearance, however, were his front paws. He had thumbs. Where Terran dogs had their regressed fifth claw, this species was equipped with another movable ball of the foot.

Another "dog" appeared behind the first one, even larger than his friend. He barked something, but Porthos didn't understand what he said. It seemed to be an order, for the first dog turned around and disappeared. The large one stepped forward and made a noise sounding like a mixture between a bark and a whine. Porthos only stared at him. The alien shook his head; he seemed to have realized that Porthos hadn't understood a word he said. He turned around and left. The door slammed shut and was locked again. The clicking of the claws on the concrete moved away. Porthos let out a deep breath.

Well, how bad can this get? Not only had he fallen into a deep river and ended up miles away from his humans, but now he was being held prisoners by a species who had the size of cows and the looks of big, shaggy St. Bernards.

But despite all that he was still damn lucky. These aliens didn't seem out to kill him. Porthos wondered how they had been able to find him. Either their scanners had picked up his signal or they had a very keen sense of smell. But on the other hand their people still used door handles, so maybe they didn't even have scanners or something of the like.

But then, back on Enterprise we also have a few doors with handles.

Porthos had always asked himself why the designers had resorted to such anachronistic devices. As far as he knew, there was no reason not to equip all of these doors with a panel.

Maybe because slamming a door makes for a more theatrical exit.

Porthos considered. He couldn't escape through the door, and the only other possible exit was the window. But for one thing he didn't reach that far up, and second he had no idea how deep he would fall if he jumped out. It seemed like all he could do right now was sit and wait. First, he had to find out what these aliens wanted with him. But that was going to be difficult, since dogs had far less possibilities to communicate via body language than humans, for example. Well, he would have to try and do his best.

Again, steps approached, but this time there seemed to be several of them.

Great. I bet now they've brought their friends. The elephant dachshunds.

The door opened again. Sure enough, several of the aliens came in and Porthos saw that they were carrying bowls and plates between their shoulderblades.

Interesting. Well, live and learn.

They placed the plates in front of Porthos, throwing him encouraging looks. Porthos took a closer look at the plates. Each of them seemed to contain a different kind of food, but to him all of them looked equally disgusting. Porthos sniffed at a piece of brown something which seemed to be meat, but was soaked with a thick green gravy that smelled like something T'Pol would eat. Carefully, Porthos licked up some of the green slob, half-expecting to grow a dark green antenna any minute. Nothing of the sort happened, but a second later Porthos was spitting and coughing like mad, trying to get rid of the spicy stuff which seemed to be burning his tongue. The aliens started to bark and wag their tails, which apparently was their way of laughing.

Harhar, very funny! Porthos thought angrily, and turned to the next plate. It contained a thin, yellowish liquid. Porthos tried it, and realized that it tasted very sweet, almost like the jellybean Trip had given him a few month ago.

No, not exactly what I'd call yummy, either.

He looked up at the aliens, and when they made an encouraging gesture at the rest of the plates, Porthos turned to the other meals lined up in front of him.

The third plate contained a gray object which reminded him of a large pebble. He bent down and began to chew on it. It was as elastic as a rubber ball, but he had to admit it didn't taste that bad.

Reminds me a little of moldy canned meat, but other than that it's really quite good.

Looking up at them, he nodded. One of the "dogs" pointed with his front paw at the now-empty plate and gave Porthos a questioning look. Porthos nodded in response.

The thing on the last plate looked so disgusting that Porthos didn't even want to try it. It looked like a big slug covered with dried-up worms and small, black seeds. Porthos pointed at it and emphatically shook his head.

I'd rather have rubber balls for the rest of my life than try that thing!

The aliens nodded, placed the plates back between each other's shoulder blades and left.

Five minutes later one of them came back, carrying a little basket in which he put the pillow Porthos had woken up on. The alien had brought a blanket as well, and gestured for Porthos to crawl into the basket. When Porthos complied, the alien silently gestured "all right?" and again, Porthos nodded. The other dog briefly wagged his tail in response and left, not without locking the door behind him.

Well, I suppose hoping for them to let me go would be asking too much.

Porthos lay down and with his teeth pulled up the covers. Trying all that food had worn him out, and he was probably still suffering from the after-effects of his near-fatal adventure in the river. He was very tired. Porthos closed his eyes, and only a moment later he was fast asleep.

XXX

Someone nudged him. Someone with a cold snout. Since when did Jon have a snout? Porthos woke up with a start. Again, one of the doglike aliens had come, and he apparently wanted Porthos to come with him. Outside in the corridor, a narrow hallway with a low ceiling and rough gray concrete walls, there were five more aliens waiting for him. They took him in their middle and marched him down the hallway in direction of a heavy brown wooden door.

Finally they arrived in a room with two big windows which allowed a beautiful view of the jungle outside. On the wall opposite the door there was a large view screen, and in the middle of the room stood a big console, facing the screen. Next to the windows there were several consoles as well, each with a "dog" standing behind it. They pushed him to stand next to the main console, where anyone on the screen would be able to see him.

The dog who had brought him in came to stand in the middle of the room, looking at the viewscreen. He nodded at one of the smaller dogs who pressed a few buttons on his console and threw the screen an expectant look. Finally, it dawned on Porthos what these people were doing. A few seconds of silence passed, then there was a soft crackle and Enterprise's bridge appeared on the view screen. Travis was sitting at usual place at the helm, but Hoshi was bent over her instruments, intent on something displayed on the monitor in front of her. She looked up, and her eyes widened in shock when she saw Porthos. The dog next to Porthos began to speak. He barked loudly, sounding threatening. Hoshi's fingers danced across her console and after a while her attempts at translating seemed to have worked, for she sat back in relief. Then the helmsman turned around and said something to Hoshi who nodded and crossed her arms in front of her chest. When she started to speak, Porthos realized with surprise that he was able to understand her. At the same time he noticed strange letters appearing on the bottom of the view screen.

Hoshi's first words were drowned out by the dogs who were all talking at the same time, but after a while they abandoned their conversation and began to listen.

"... Ensign Sato from the starship Enterprise. We're on a peaceful mission of exploration. I..."

She was cut off by the biggest dog who barked something in his language, startling Porthos. He considered. It seemed like Universal Translator the Enterprise crew used to communicate with alien species could translate the dog's words into written language, but not into spoken English. Hoshi read something on her screen, presumably the translation of what the dog had just said. Then her eyes came to rest on Porthos.

"Yes, you could say he's a member of our crew. He's the..."

Again the dog interrupted her with a loud bark.

"He accompanied Captain Archer to this planet, yes. The away team's job was to gather mineral samples for scientific research."

When the dog answered, it sounded threatening, and he kept gesturing at Porthos while he talked. Hoshi's eyes widened when she read the translation. She bent over her console, pressing a few buttons, then said something in the speaker, her voice sounding urgent.

"I've put you through to the Captain," she said, straightening up.

The big dog next to Porthos nodded. He started to bark again, and it sounded like he was repeating what he'd already told Hoshi.

A moment later Porthos heard Archer's voice.

"I'm Captain Jonathan Archer. My communications officer informed me about your... request, but I cannot agree to what you're asking of me. Starfleet does not negotiate with kidnappers." Jon's voice sounded strained, as though he had a hard time keeping it level. "And even if we did, I would never agree to-"

The dog, apparently not a very patient person, barked again. A pause followed, then the Captain answered, his voise rising.

"Threats will get you nowhere, and no, I can't do that! I have regulations to follow, and Starfleet would never hand their weapon's technology over to criminals!"

The dog barked an angry reply, and Porthos winced despite himself. This was _not good. _Jon seemed to be thinking along similar lines, visibly forcing his voice to sound calm.

"Why don't you release my d- crewmember, and we can negotiate on a peaceful basis. I'm not willing to-"

The dog laughed his barky laugh, and immediately all his underlings joined in. After a few seconds the pack leader held up a paw, and they shut up again.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The Captain sounded positively furious now. The dog leader answered only a few words, but what he said did definitely not sound polite. Jon seemed to have gained as much. Porthos had never heard him shout like that before.

"Listen, whatever your name is, I don't have to listen to this! Either you release him, or-"

The dog waved a paw, and one of his underdogs severed the connection, cutting Jon off in mid-sentence. Porthos stood paralyzed. What were they going to do now?

The monitor turned black, and the dog who had spoken turned around and nodded at a few dog guards standing next to the door. Again, they took Porthos in their middle and left the room, walking down the corridor back to the room where he had been before.

After they had locked the door and left, Porthos slowly walked over to his pillow and lay down again, trying to understand what all this had been about. It sounded like the dog leader had somehow threatened Archer. But how could he threaten him? Well, that one was simple. After all, they had him. Porthos.

Porthos took in a sharp breath when he realized what was happening here. But he still didn't quite understand what exactly the dogs wanted in return for his release. The dog leader had said something about weapon technology. Of course, these dogs were definitely pre-warp, and Enterprise's advanced technology would certainly come in handy in whatever war they were fighting. But Porthos knew just as well that Archer couldn't hand over that information, even though the dog's threat had been quite clear: Either they handed over the technology, or Porthos wouldn't be returning to Enterprise. And this left both Jon and Porthos in one hell of a fix.

Porthos closed his eyes in despair. Knowing Jon, the Captain was probably beside himself with worry. Wouldn't be the first time, either. After his little adventure with the Kreetassan virus he'd heard crewmembers talking about how cranky the Captain had been that night, biting off people's head and snapping at everyone who crossed his path. Porthos was almost sure he was being just the same right now, and maybe even worse. He swallowed. And it was all his fault.

How could he have been so stupid, running off on an alien planet, and, as if that wasn't enough, falling into the first river he came across.

He wondered what Jon was going to do now. Porthos knew Jon would never meet the kidnappers' demands, whatever it was that they were demanding. So he'd certainly try and get Porthos back by force. Porthos had no idea if those dogs had weapons that were a match for Starfleet technology, but there was no doubt about the fact that rescuing him was going to put crewmembers in danger.

And Porthos couldn't allow that. He'd landed himself in trouble, now he had to find a way to get out of it himself. Negotiation seemed to be not an option, since there was no way he could talk to the dogs. They outnumbered him, and he wasn't strong enough to fight even one of them. And he couldn't get out of this room, either. The door was locked and he had neither a hair pin nor a skeleton key nor thumbs to open it. The window was not a very good idea either since he didn't reach up to it and had no idea how deep he would fall on the other side. But it seemed to be the only possibility. He would simply have to try. But not right now. Wouldn't look to good if those guards came back when he was just about to open the window. He had to wait until after the next time they brought him food, and then try to get out. His plan was no guarantee that they weren't going to catch him anyway, but it was better than trying right away.

Porthos shifted to find a more comfortable position and tried to find some sleep, still feeling exhausted from all the excitement and his adventure in the river. Besides, he had to save his strength for what he was about to do.

Somehow, though, sleep wouldn't come. A feeling of unease sat deep in stomach, and he couldn't stop thinking of Jon, and hoping the Captain wasn't worrying too much. But of course he was. Porthos knew that.

After a while he realized that he wouldn't be able to sleep, got up and let his gaze wander across the room, looking for something that would help him get up to the window. Fortunately it was only about a meter away from the floor. Freeclimbing wasn't exactly one of Porthos' favorite spare time activities. Too bad it had no window sill (in the meantime he had grown to be quite good at high jump, due to his attempts at reaching cookie tins that were standing on high counters). The room was crammed with lots of old furniture, but most of it looked far too heavy for Porthos to be able to push it under the window. Except for the triangular "table" he'd already noticed when he'd first woken up in here. It reached almost as far up as the window, and seemed quite solidly built. Porthos was sure it wouldn't tip over. But the window itself represented a problem as well. If the glass was any similar to Terran glass, it wouldn't be too hard to break, but Porthos had no rock or anything similar to break the pane with. And he couldn't use his paw since he'd surely hurt simself, and he couldn't very well escape with an injured foot.

Looking around, he found the solution to his problem. The water bowl. Porthos went over to it and sniffed at it, examining it with his paw. The bowl seemed to be made of stone and looked quite solid. He would have to empty it, and somehow try to jump onto the table holding the bowl with his teeth. The only problem left was that he had no idea if there wasn't a deep canyon waiting for him on the other side of the window. But with a little luck, there was no reason why he shouldn't be out of here in only a few hours' time.

TBC...

Please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Starfleet Hero, Doggy Style

Author: Tsuev

Genre: Action/Humor

Rating: PG

Summary: Porthos gets himself kidnapped! Will Archer come to the rescue still in time?

AN: Thanks to vanillafluffy, The Libran Iniquity, Sita, Rinne, Exploded Pen and Gabi for reviewing. Hope you like Chapter 4, please r&r!

Chapter 4

After Porthos had waited for another fifteen minutes, he finally heard the clicking of the paws on the concrete floor returning. He pricked up his ears, and realized that this time it was only one dog approaching the cell. The door slid open, confirming his guess. A dog was standing in the doorframe, carrying a plate with two of those meaty rubber balls on his back. He let out a short bark and stood the plate on the floor in front of Porthos. Then he briefly wagged his tail, turned around and left. After he had locked the door Porthos listened apprehensively until he was absolutely sure the guard was gone. then he got up.

Briefly, he considered eating the food, but then decided against, feeling he wouldn't be able to keep anything down anyway. Pushing the plate aside, he turned to the water bowl. He drank a few sips, then tried to knock it over, and after several futile attempts he was successful. The water splashed to the floor, forming a big dark puddle.

Carefully, Porthos took the bowl in his mouth and once again cursed the fact that dogs had no thumbs.

Well, at least Terran dogs don't have them.

Slowly, he lifted his head, and realized that the bowl wasn't as heavy as he had expected. He looked up at the edge of the table, crouched and bit down a little harder, so he wouldn't lose his grip when he jumped. Then he pushed himself off the ground as hard as he could. He shot up, and managed to grab hold of the edge of the table with his claws. Since his snout was over the tabletop already he let go of the bowl, then let himself slide back down.

Well, at least the bowl is where I want it.

Porthos prepared himself for another jump, pushed himself off the floor and with an effort he managed to push his upper body onto the table top. Digging his claws into the wooden surface, he kicked out with his hind legs and finally his left paw found the table leg, and he was able to push himself fully onto the table.

Panting heavily, Porthos shook his head to rid himself of the dizzy spell that was threatening to overwhelm him. It seemed the strain was catching up with him; his side was aching, and all four of his legs hurt like hell. But he ignored it; giving up now would be the coward's way out. He couldn't let Jon down.

Shaking himself, he began to examine the window. It did look like plain old glass, so there should be no problem in smashing it. Looking down, however, he felt his throat tighten up.

The ground was at least two or maybe even two and half meters below, and all he could see was a big meadow, a few bushes here and there and a forest nearby.

Well, at least no cliffy canyon with a roaring river running through it...

He'd simply have to try. The worst thing that could happen was breaking a leg, after all. Even though, Porthos decided after a moment's thought, breaking a leg didn't sound all that tempting, either. Briefly, he closed his eyes, then took the bowl in his mouth. Standing right in front of the window, he slammed it against the glass as hard as he could. There was an ugly crunching sound, and a crack formed in the windowpane. Again he lowered his head, and then snapped it up as quickly as he could. The stone bowl slammed into the window and the glass shattered, leaving an opening big enough for Porthos to crawl through. He felt something like triumph, mixed with growing anxiety, form in his chest when he put the bowl back onto the table and carefully stuck his head out the window.

A hard lump formed at the bottom of his stomach when he saw how far away the ground was. Carefully, he also pushed his front paws through the opening and rested them on the narrow window sill outside. He would have to jump and at the same time pull his hind legs through the broken window.

No doubt he was going to cut himself, but there was no other way. Again, he checked that none of the dogs were standing guard outside. But there was no one in sight. Taking a deep breath, Porthos bent forward and pushed his front paws away from the window sill, at the same time quickly lifting his hind legs. He felt the sharp edges of the glass scratching his flanks and legs, then another sharp stab of pain shot up his left front paw and the world turned black.

XXX

Waking up, Porthos threw a dazed look around and realized that he was lying right below the broken window. He'd landed on the grass, and had apparently been unconscious for only a few minutes. Only then did he become aware of the throbbing pain that had its origin in his left front paw. When he looked down at his leg, his eyes widened. His paw was twisted at an odd angle, and felt strangely numb. So he'd broken his leg, after all.

His sides had suffered as well, sporting several bloody cuts, some of them still bleeding. Porthos closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep, but that was out of the question. He still had to get away from those dogs, and if he stayed here they would find him more sooner than later, that much was for sure. He had to go and find Jon.

Slowly getting up, Porthos let out a small whimper, careful not to bring his injured leg in contact with ground. It still hurt like hell. Porthos scrunched his eyes shut and waited for the worst of the pain to pass. If he didn't move his foot, all he felt was that numbness and a slight throbbing. He walked a step, and realized that he could do it, holding up the injured limb and putting all weight on his good front paw.

His vision grew dizzy. He felt nausea rise within him, and his injured sides were burning like hell, the throbbing in his head adding to the pain. Porthos knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long, but he had to try and keep going as long as he could. He had to make it to the edge of the forest, at the very least. Find a hiding place, or the dogs would find him again, as they had the first time. Another stab of pain seared through his paw, and Porthos howled softly. Slowly, meter by meter, the forest was coming closer. Porthos swallowed and kept on hobbling, feeling his sore hind paws starting to give way under him.

Finally he'd reached the forest. For a brief moment he paused and looked around. He was on one of the paths leading deeper into the woods, one of the paths his big furry friends had created. Suddenly a familiar scent wafted around his nose, and Porthos straightened up. He knew that smell, spicy and clean, sterile, in a way. Definitely T'Pol. She had to be somewhere near. Porthos tried to speed up his pace, but immediately felt another dizzy spell wash over him, oblivion slowly creeping closer. But he couldn't give up now, he had to make T'Pol aware that he was here. He tried to bark, but all that came out was a hoarse gasp.

He noticed that something was coming towards him, walking down the very path he was sitting on. Porthos simply stayed where he was; there was no sense in trying to hide himself. All he could do was hope that it was indeed T'Pol coming down the path.

When he saw her, he stopped fighting the blackness that was threatening to engulf him. In a way he almost welcomed the feeling. His paw was broken, his body was sore and hurting, he was exhausted and on the verge of physical collapse, but he was safe.

The last thing he felt was T'Pol carefully picking him up, then the blackness closed over him and Porthos knew no more.

TBC...

Please let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Starfleet Hero, Doggy Style

Author: Tsuev

Genre: Action/Humor

Rating: PG

Summary: Porthos gets himself kidnapped! Will Archer come to the rescue still in time?

AN: Thanks to Gabi ( der ist nicht nur besser als Lassie, sondern auch intelligenter als Kommissar Rex!), The Libran Iniquity (I don't know who Lou is , but I guess it will be some kind of Super-Dog... And now this is gonna be the last Aktualisierung...;) ), MaxMacGyver (Cheese can be toxic to dogs as well ;) ), Exploded Pen (I don't think Porthos has got some cotton socks, but if you think so...;) ) and Sita Z (jetzt biste sicher schon ganz gespannt, was im letzten Kapitel passiert...) for reviewing. Hope you enjoyed the story! Please r&r.

Chapter 5

When Porthos woke up again, he wasn't surrounded by the pleasant semi-darkness he had hoped for. A bright light shone through his eyelids and he closed his eyes even tighter. It smelled of Phlox and sickbay. Carefully, he prized one of his eyes open and looked around. He was in sickbay, lying on his gray pillow next to one of the bio beds. Porthos lifted his head and saw Archer standing next to the door, speaking to T'Pol. Resting his head back on the pillow, he tried to hear what they were talking about.

"I found him in the forest, about fifty meters away from the building," T'Pol said. "He was only just losing consciousness."

A moment later Porthos heard the sickbay door opening and closing, and noticed Archer who was crouching down next to him. T'Pol seemed to have left.

Porthos raised his head and looked at Jon's worried face. The Captain smiled in relief, and stroked Porthos' back. Porthos tried to get up, but Jon gently pushed him back down.

"You can't get up yet, boy. Maybe later, if it's okay with the doctor."

The doctor came over and Jon straightened up.

"Actually, there is no reason why you shouldn't take him back to your quarters right away, Captain," Phlox said with his usual wide smile. "All Porthos needs is a lot of rest and sleep. Be careful that he doesn't put to much strain on his broken paw. It'd be probably best for him not to walk around more than absolutely necessary so the break can heal."

Again, Porthos tried to sit up, but when he moved his injured paw he winced and pulled it up. Archer, who had been talking to Phlox and didn't seem to have noticed, turned back around.

"Come on, Porthos. Let's go home!" he said, and carefully picked him up. Porthos in one arm, the pillow under his other one, Jon walked back to his quarters. Once the door had closed behind him, he gently set the dog down the bed. Porthos curled up next to Archer's pillows, glad to be back home, where no giant dogs were prowling the corridors and you weren't fed rubber balls for dinner. He was just about to fall asleep when the Captain sat down on the bed next to him and began to scratch him behind the ears. Slowly, Porthos got to his feet and hobbled over to crawl into Jon's lap. After a while, he felt the tension easing from his body, and relaxed.

"I dare say you've had enough of away mission for the time being, haven't you, boy?" Archer said, carefully examining the scratches on Porthos' sides. The dog winced when Jon's fingers bumped against a sore place.

"Sorry, Porthos." Pulling back his hands, Jon continued to scratch him behind the ears. "Oh, I just remembered, I've got something for you."

The Captain laid Porthos on the quilt next to him and got up. Porthos watched him rummage through his cupboards, and finally come up with a red plastic tin.

"These are for you." Jon smiled. "Finally, huh?"

Oh, you noticed I...? Oops.

Archer came over and put the unopened box of chocolate cookies on the bed next to Porthos.

"Go on, I'm not opening it for you."

Inwardly, Porthos rolled his eyes. Pinning down the box with his good paw, he used his teeth to tear the cardboard packing.

Archer frowned. "Hey, where did you learn that?"

We-ell...

Porthos shifted for a more comfortable position and began to happily eat his chocolate cookies while Jon sat back next to him, intent on his latest water polo match.

The End

Please let me know what you think!


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